“What about official investigation?” asked Zenin.
“They say there’s nothing positive they can do, they’re waiting for the result of the commission, like we are.” Olga cleared the table while Zenin carried the remains of their dinner wine into the lounge.
“I’ve been talking to people,” said Zenin. “There’s no way Okulov or Karelin can survive.”
“Do you think a change of government will affect us personally?”
“Who knows?” smiled Zenin.
Olga sat at Zenin’s feet, her arm looped over his knees, her wine glass in her other hand. “Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“You’re not unhappy, are you: not thinking things aren’t working out between us?”
“Of course not! Things are working out! Why do you think they’re not?”
“In the last few days you’ve just seemed … I don’t know … distant, I suppose.”
“A man can’t make love every night!”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“I’ve been considering a lot of options: trying to find a way to move forward. I want to get it over with. Finished.”
“It will be, soon,” said Olga, emptily.
Charlie waited four days before going to the Radisson Slavjanskaya hotel again, carefully allowing two hours from the end of Sasha’s schoolday. The immediate anger would have gone by now. He certainly wouldn’t lose his temper-he had nothing to lose his temper about—and hoped Natalia wouldn’t, either, certainly not in front of Sasha. If Natalia insisted, he’d even keep it a telephone conversation, although he’d have more chance of persuading her if they could meet, face to face. Alternatively she might agree briefly to leave Sasha in the room, so they could talk in the hotel lounge or bar, although he thought that unlikely. He didn’t want to leave Sasha alone in a hotel bedroom himself, no matter how briefly.
Charlie found the house phone in a corner of the foyer, glad it was an enclosed booth. The man who answered in room 46 said Charlie must have the wrong extension: he was a computer technician from Kiev who’d only arrived that morning. The receptionist told him Natalia Fedova and the little girl had booked out the previous day, without leaving a forwarding address.
Back at Lesnaya Charlie walked aimlessly around the echoing rooms, as he had every night since Natalia left. That night, though, he stopped in Sasha’s room, properly seeing for the first time that there were still things of Sasha’s that Natalia hadn’t taken, particularly toys. Then he saw that the doll he’d bought back from London was there but the previous, forgotten sister with the droopy eye wasn’t.
27
The perfectly coordinated seizures were filmed, to be shown directly before the simultaneous telecasts by both presidents. Anandale personally pressured Okulov during his alerting telephone call after the Grand Jury indictments for FBI agents to be visibly present at each arrest, which took place at four A.M. At each, doors were jackhammered off their hinges. Everyone named by Sakov was confronted before they could get out of bed. John Kayley, who was with the loyal FSB officers who took deputy chairman Gennardi Mittel into custody, was identified during the president’s address to the nation as the officer who had broken the case. Olga Melnik was taken manacled from the apartment with Zenin and held for a week before being released. The detentions were announced-simultaneously again—five hours before the televised appearance of the two leaders, and in mid-afternoon Petr Tikunov, the communist party presidential candidate, put a gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger. In his broadcast Anandale spoke of a plot that could have destabilized world peace, which was now strengthened and more secure because of the cooperation between two great nations. Okulov even more grandiosely talked of Russia being pulled back from reentering the dark ages and of a cancer being excised from an organization and a political party which sought to subvert the new Russian democracy. He echoed Anandale’s insistence on a strengthening between the two countries and said he was looking forward to officially becoming Russia’s leader in the forthcoming elections. Neither referred to a missile defense treaty.
Charlie Muffin watched alone in his echoing apartment, smiling at the sight-repeated after the president’s identification-of John Kayley for the first time in a freshly pressed suit and laundered shirt. There was, inevitably, a cigar.
Charlie had turned to CNN for their quickly assembled documentary on the entire investigation—dominated once more by the gantry fight between Bendall and Sakov—when the telephone rang. His stomach hollowed at Natalia’s voice.
“You?” she anticipated at once.
“Yes.”
“Why did you give it away to the Americans?”
“That’s the way it worked.”
“And now that Filitov’s been arrested you know I wasn’t the leak.”
“I said I was sorry. I’m glad you’ve called.” He could persuade her. Not easily, perhaps, but now they were talking he could convince her to call the whole nonsense off.
“There are some things I need to collect.”
“Come back, Natalia. Please.” He’d let her have her pride.
“Clothes. And some stuff of Sasha’s.”
“How is she?”
“Fine. She asks after you.”
“I miss her and I’m lost without you and I want you both to come back.”
“Can I come by tomorrow, to pick them up.”
That’s when it would be best, when they were in the same room together. “What time?”
“About now?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
He was.
He opened Volnay but left it in the refrigerator to stay chilled and abandoned the idea of canapes because it would be trying too hard. He did put cornflowers in a vase, though, because they were her favorite and it was quite normal for him to buy them for her. He poured himself scotch, which he would normally have done at that time but left it untouched on the low table. Illogically he had expected her to ring, from the street, and started at the sound of her key in the lock, only just getting to his feet as she entered. She had a case in either hand!
Charlie went towards her but looked beyond, for their daughter. “You’re back! Where’s Sasha?”
Seeing his look and realizing his misunderstanding, Natalia easily lifted both empty cases and said, “To carry what I’ve come to collect.”
Charlie stopped, uncertain whether to go on to try to kiss her. Not a good idea, he decided. “I’ve opened some wine.”
“No thanks. I’ve got to get on.” She couldn’t let him talk her round.
“You got my note at the hotel?”
“Of course.”
“I went again but you’d moved out?”
“I’ve got a temporary ministry apartment, until I can find something.”
“I want you to come back here.”
“You said.” It would be so easy to say yes but she really wasn’t sure if she wanted to, not totally.
“I made mistakes. Let’s not make any more.”
“It’s too claustrophobic. We’re not happy together.” He had to agree with that!
“We can be! Not all the time but most of it. People aren’t, not all the time. Let’s learn from this, not suffer from it.”
“I don’t feel I’m suffering. I need space, to breathe.” Which was what she felt she’d been doing, breathing. Feeling free.
“Sit down. Please. Let’s talk.”
“I need to pack. Sasha’s staying at Marina’s again but I said I wouldn’t be long.”
“You sure about this?”
“Yes.”
“Now you’re making the mistake.”
Natalia walked around him and disappeared into their bedroom, saying nothing.
Charlie went to follow but stopped again. It would be wrong to crowd her. I need space. Leave her alone: let her see—feet—what it was she was abandoning. He stayed standing but sipped for the first time at the neglected drink. Natalia crossed from their bedroom into Sasha’s without looking sideways
along the corridor towards him. When she emerged with the two cases he said, “Do you need help with them?”
“No.”
“I want to be able to see Sasha.”
“Yes.”
“So I need an address.”
“I’ll let you have it, when I get one.”
“What about now?”
“It’ll only be a few days.” Stay strong, she told herself, don’t give in.
“Don’t do this!”
“Keep safe, Charlie.”
He remained standing after the door closed behind her, quietly again, the drink forgotten in his hand. He put it down abruptly, angrily, spilling it, and at once wondered why-for whose benefithe was performing like someone in a B movie. He went into their bedroom, seeing that this time Natalia had cleared everything from her closets. He thought at first she’d only left one thing in Sasha’s room, the doll he’d brought back from London. Then he saw, beside it, the diamond bar brooch he’d also bought there for Natalia.
Plots, true or false, are necessary things,
To raise up commonwealths and ruin kings
John Dryden,
Absalom and Achitophel
Author’s Note
On August 19, 1991, a group of hardline Communists staged a vodka-fuelled coup against reforming Soviet president Mikhail Gorbachev Among the plotters, who included the prime minister, the defense minister, and the interior minister, was Vladimir Kryuchkov, chairman of the Komitet Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti, the KGB.
After the immediate failure of the coup, the KGB was broken up and redesigned between external and internal intelligence agencies in exactly the same way as America’s CIA and FBI and the United Kingdom’s MI6 and MI5. Russia’s foreign intelligence organization is the Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki, the SVR. Its internal service is the Federalnaia Sluzhba Bezopasnosti, the FSB.
All intelligence organizations commit murder, although all strenuously deny it. The topmost classified assassination division of the KGB was the Executive Action Department—Department V—of the First Chief Directorate.
Department V survived the reorganization and the redesigning and exists to this day. Both the SVR and the FSB deny that existence as they vehemently deny its purpose.
Winchester, 2002
ALSO BY BRIAN FREEMANTLE
The Watchmen
Little Grey Mice
Comrade Charlie
Button Man
Charlie’s Apprentice
No Time for Heroes
Bomb Grade
Mind Reader
KINGS OF MANY CASTLES. Copyright © 2002 by Brian Freemantle.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y 10010.
THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.
An imprint of St. Martin’s Press.
www.stmartins.com
eISBN 9781429974080
First eBook Edition : May 2011
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Freemantle, Brian.
Kings of many castles: a Charlie Muffin thriller / Brian
Freemantle.—1st ed.
p. cm.
ISBN 0-312-30412-9
1. Muffin, Charlie (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Intelligence service—Fiction. 3. British—Russia—Fiction. 4. Moscow (Russia)—Fiction. 5. Assassination—Fiction. 6. Defectors—Fiction. I. Title.
PR6056.R43 K45 2002
823’.914—dc21
2002069280
First Edition: December 2002
Kings of Many Castles Page 38